Dawn's Wedding
by Abra d'Inverno
Summary: Spike&Faith,just friends,are invited to Dawn's wedding. Things change between Spike and Dawn the night before her wedding. The story doesn't have a plot. It's partly meant to explain the reason for Spike's last obstacle in the cave, at the end of Needed.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: The characters belong to Joss Whedon.

Timeline: less than two years post NFA (Angel), about three years post Chosen (BtVS)

Set about seven years before the events of my Wes/Faith story, "Needed".

Background:

Spike is the only known survivor of the big battle in NFA. A few months after that battle, Spike meets Faith. Faith was several months pregnant – the child's father, complete mystery for everyone so far. Spike and Faith stick together in a completely non sexual way. They work as treasure hunters and demon fighters, rogue demon fighters :)

Faith and Spike are invited at Dawn's wedding, in Cleveland.

**Pairing**: Spike/Dawn

**Rating**: T for now. Definitely M next chapter.

Not beta'd. Please excuse the errors. This story popped out when I was working on chapter 15 of "Dawn's Fine". This is my first Spike/Dawn story. It will not be long. 2-3 chapters at most.

Please review!

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**Dawn's Wedding**

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**Chapter 1**

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Spike took the baby chair out of the car. The boy was sleeping peacefully and he had mercifully done so for the past few hours of the journey. It wasn't that he didn't like the little tyke, but there was nothing like a crying child to make driving across the country unbearable. Alex Lehane remained angelically quiet. The vampire reached for the diaper bag with his free hand, and pushed the car door close with his backside. He was the Big Bad, for crying out loud! Why did he know what to do about a one-year-old with a tummy ache?

He looked over to Faith. She was getting stuff out of the trunk. She slung the clothes bag over her shoulder, took the dry-cleaned dress that had been hanging from one of the backseat windows and draped her dress carefully over her arm. Spike knew her well enough by now to be able to read the tension in her body. They hadn't seen the Summers' and the rest of the Scoobies in a while. Faith had met them in L.A. when they were looking for the survivors of the anti Wolfram and Hart crusade, but the last Spike had seen of them was the hours before he burnt to a crisp in the Hellmouth.

They stopped in front of the door, hesitating only briefly before ringing the bell. They had been invited, so presumably the reception was not going to be too unpleasant.

Dawn's wedding... Spike was still having a hard time believing that the little Nibblet was getting married. It felt as if only the other day she was sneaking into his crypt to listen to horror tales from his past. But it hadn't been the other day. That had last happened more than six years earlier.

The vampire could hear the commotion behind the front door. The last wedding he'd crashed was Anya's and the whelp's. He hoped that this one was going to be spared any last minute dramatic exits. If some guy broke Dawnie's heart, he had it in him to hunt the son of a bitch down and kill him. Slowly. He had been too wrapped up in his own troubles with the Slayer to give a good walloping to young Harris about doing that to Anya.

Thinking of Alexander Harris gave him the creeps. He was still a little upset that Faith had chosen him as her child's godfather. He understood her reasoning in part. Although they had begun their partnership less than two years ago, Spike could tell that it was going to last, and if they ever got into trouble, Alex needed to have someone else to count on.

The door finally opened, and they saw the head of a girl, probably a young Slayer, peering at them over a basket of roses.

"Hi there! I'm Faith, this is Spike. Can we come in?" Faith said seeing the lack of recognition in the girl's face.

"Umm," the girl hesitated.

"Screw this," Faith said and turned around to leave.

Spike caught her arm and held her back.

"We've been invited, Pet," he said, taking the rumpled invitations from the pocket of his duster.

"Oh, come on in," the girl said stepping aside to allow them to enter.

Spike walked in, pulling a still reluctant Faith after him. So she was ready to turn tail and run. Nothing was ever so easy. Sooner or later, they both had to deal with this part of their past. He dreaded seeing Buffy again, knew that none of them was going to believe that his relationship with Faith was not sexual, but he wanted this dealt with.

They were still in the hallway when he saw Buffy hurry down the stairs with a piece of chiffon in her hand. She stopped dead when she saw them. Spike looked at her, trying to measure how much she was still affecting him. She was so beautiful... Her hair was slightly longer and lighter than he remembered, but for some reason it looked more tangled than had ever gotten when she was fighting. He had smelled her nervousness before she had even seen him, so he was not harboring any illusions that her state of disarray had anything to do with him. She was anxious about the wedding. She had acted for years as Dawn's mother, father, sister and friend, there was no reason to think that the preparation for little sis's wedding could leave her calm.

"Slayer," he said in greeting.

He saw her eyes flicker from his face to his body, then travel to the child in his arms, then at Faith. He felt her grow colder and it hurt. They had spoken on the phone, and he had explained her the situation, but there was no denying that he, Faith and Alex looked like a family. His heart sunk a little more. The spark was still in his chest, and although it had ceased being an all-consuming fire, it pained him to see how little his words mattered against her prejudiced eyes.

"Welcome, guys," Buffy said. "Come on, let me show you to your rooms."

She climbed back up the stairs and motioned them to follow.

"I left my stuff in the car," Spike said, and handed Faith the baby.

Faith reached to take the chair, but Buffy got it first. Her hand touched Spike's and the vampire felt a tingle go up his arm. Buffy turned around and continued her way upstairs.

"Thanks," Faith said, and followed Buffy.

Spike lit up a cigarette as soon as he was out the door. One of the discomforts of sharing his life with Faith was the no smoking policy. At first, she was pregnant, and then he couldn't smoke for the boy's sake.

"Some things never change," a woman's voice came from the darkness.

Sounded a little like Dawn, but there was too much of change for it to be her. He tried to guess from the smell, but the woman's smell was mixed up with so many others, that he could not identify it, though logic told him that it was probably the bride to be. She had probably been kissed and hugged by dozens of people every day.

He startled when the shape grew into focus. It was Dawn, and yet it was not. He had tried to talk himself into expecting to see a woman and not the little girl he knew, but neither his mind, not his heart had listened. The shock however, came from the color of her hair. Not only it was was not as long as he remembered, but it was black. When she came all the way into the light, he saw that her eyes were black, too. He thought of Drusilla, and his heart ached with longing as it hadn't in years.

He wondered if she realized how much she reminded him of his dark goddess. No. She probably did not remember Drusilla. Even in her fabricated memories, she would've been too young when they had first arrived in Sunnydale.

"'lo, Pet. How've you been?"

"Fine," she said.

She reached toward his cigarette. He relinquished it, too surprised to refuse.

"Nerves," she explained, drawing in a deep breath.

"Worried about tomorrow?"

"Weddings are hell. I begged Willow to use magick to smooth things over, but she's holding tight to her 'no magick unless absolutely necessary' policy. Sucks!" she said and returned him the cigarette. "I missed you so much, Spike!" she added, in a tone he hadn't heard from her in years.

"Not mad at me anymore then?"

"Stopping the end of the world kinda made it difficult."

She was trying to sound like her teenage self, but everything about her was telling Spike she was a grown woman. Her poise alone destroyed any illusions he might have had to see something of his old Dawn. The resemblance to Dru was there, he realized. It hadn't been just the shock of her changed color scheme.

He wondered if he should hug her. He had missed her. Her friendship, her crushy, teenagy adoration, her vulnerability. When he stretched his arm to offer her the cigarette again, he sensed it. The smell of a man on her skin. Not on her clothes, not in her hair, but on her skin, mixed with her most intimate scent. He looked at her lips again, and realized that they did not look poutier from any cosmetic products. They were swollen from kisses.

He took another cautious sniff and the distinct scent of arousal hit him from underneath all the others. She had just come back from having sex with, presumably, her fiancé. The smell jolted his dormant libido. Hanging around with Faith and her kid had ruined his sex life. He grew embarrassingly hard, and he felt ashamed that little Dawnie had been able to cause this even without trying.

Spike threw the cigarette to the ground, stepped on it and got his gear out of the car.

"C'mon, Bit. Gotta get my kit inside."

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_to be continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: The characters belong to Joss Whedon.

Timeline: less than two years post NFA (Angel), about three years post Chosen (BtVS)

Set about seven years before the events of my Wes/Faith story, "Needed".

Background: Spike is the only known survivor of the big battle in NFA. A few months after that battle, Spike meets Faith. Faith was several months pregnant – the child's father, complete mystery for everyone so far. Spike and Faith stick together in a completely non sexual way. They work as treasure hunters and demon fighters, rogue demon fighters :) Faith and Spike are invited at Dawn's wedding, in Cleveland.

The story doesn't have a plot. It is partly meant to explain the reason for Spike's last "obstacle" in the cave, toward the end of "Needed".

**Pairing: **Spike/Dawn

**Rating: M **(the full, adult version is on my LiveJournal Community, **archive2**. Follow the link in my profile if you're over 17. Please leave a comment there.)

**Feedback**: yes, please

**Beta:**: Rachael

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**Chapter 2**

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It was about an hour past midnight when the household seemed to have settled down for the night. Spike had remained aloof from the pre-wedding agitation. Partly because he didn't have any role in the ceremony, and partly because he did not want to be drawn back in the Summers' inner circle. He lay on his back with the hands behind her head, reflecting on what his life was turning into. His burning, obsessive love for Buffy had mellowed into a precious memory. The drive to pursue her, the urge to possess her, heart and soul, were gone. He had allowed Faith's life to tether him for the strange reason that it felt safe. Facing monsters, breaking into ancient tombs and daring evil curses, were the sort of life he could deal with. Physical, and even mystical danger were bit as daunting as his doomed love for the Slayer.

He wondered briefly if he was recreating his former situation with Buffy and Dawn by living, even nomadically, with Faith and Alex. He could not, and would not deny, at least not to himself, that he found Faith very attractive. But she was also very much like him. In the long run, they would make better partners than lovers. Although, Faith's words, spoken from Buffy's hijacked body could still make him restless " _could ride you at a gallop until your legs buckled and your eyes rolled up. I've got muscles you've never even dreamed of. I could squeeze you until you popped like warm champagne, and you'd beg me to hurt you just a little bit more."_

Drusilla. He rarely thought about her these days. Life with Faith and her baby didn't give him the leisure of dwelling on his past. Life with Dru had been similarly hectic, but somehow Faith felt more like an equal than his Sire ever had. He could count on Faith in ways he never could with his dark goddess. Then again, Faith had a soul.

An image of Dru floated from the recesses of his mind. Shoulder length black hair, sparkling, slightly mad black eyes, pale face, long, white wedding dress. His mind drifted from Dru to Dawn. Whatever had possessed her to dye her hair and wear black contacts? From what he could figure out from the disjointed conversations, she had changed her look when she had met this guy she was marrying. Spike had seen pictures of the happy couple, and he had to admit that they looked good together, both with dark hair and black eyes. He tried not to think about the Mediterranean looking guy whose name he did not want to learn, touching his Dawn, making her squirm in pleasure, getting her to return home with her panties creamed and dry sperm on the inside of her thighs. Fuck! The memory of the smell was too vivid. His cock stirred under the blanket, pushing against his non-threatening plaid pajama pants. He needed to get laid.

He heard the soft knock on the door. He opened his eyes, but before he could say anything, the door opened. He expected Faith to come in – someone else who needed to get laid just as badly as him – looking for comfort in the quasi-hostile environment of Summers house.

"You weren't asleep," Dawn said.

"No. What's wrong, Nibblet?" he asked.

"Pre-wedding jitters. Tell me a scary story, Spike," she pleased.

Spike looked at her through the darkness. She was wearing a sweet, comfortable pajama. No cartoon characters for Dawn anymore, but it wasn't too sophisticated either. Cotton, not silk. He watched her feel her way blindly toward his bed. He felt her sneak under the covers, next to him. There was less of the adult Dawn he had met earlier, and more of the little girl. He took a careful sniff. The shower had removed the scent of the hot, sweaty sex. But she still did not smell of sugar and spike like she used to. He sensed the tangy musk almost as clearly as if he was lapping it from between her thighs.

"Not a friggin' iPod, Bit. You shouldn't be here."

"But Spi-ike," she whined. "I'm like all butterflies in my stomach."

"Why so worried? You love the bloke don't you?"

"Yeah, but..." she said and squirmed under the blanket.

"But...?" he asked, enjoying the sensation of her butt rubbing against his hip.

"Marriage is like... forever, you know? We're so young and..."

"If you're having second thoughts, you'd better talk to your sister."

"Oh My God! Buffy would so freak! She's been trying so hard to make everything perfect."

"And you feel I'm the safer choice? I'm not safe, Nibblet," he said, leaning over her, whispering the words in her ear, knowing that his lips were brushing her skin.

He put a hand on her breast and slung one leg over hers, making sure that his incipient erection poked in her tight little ass that she had carelessly propped against him.

"I'm tired of you thinking I'm some neutered old cat. I'm a freakin' tiger, Pet!"

He thrust his hips against her, surprising even himself with the burst of unexpected, angry lust.

Dawn gasped, but did not bolt out of bed. Her body tensed and he guessed that she was wondering how to react. He expected nasty words, reproaches, reminders of his love/hate affair with her sister.

Spike thought about releasing her, but the feel of a hot young thing in his arms was too sweet to give up. He had been abstinent for too long. Instead of taking his hand off her breast as he had intended, he squeezed it tighter, and pinched her nipple. He lowered his head and kissed her neck. Her blood was flowing fast through her veins. He hadn't fed on a human for too long. He licked her neck in short, cat-like lappings, he felt Dawn bucking under him. He analyzed her smell. Fear and arousal. He pushed his whole body on top of hers. His cock was now clearly outlined against his pants and against her ass. He had pushed Dawn face down into the bed, her breast squashed in his palm. He thrust a couple of times against her ass, aware that if he sped up the pace he could easily come in his pants.

Fear disappeared from Dawn's smell. Tangy, womanly arousal was all he could sense. The cent annihilated any shreds of conscience and control. She tried to wriggle from underneath him, obviously aware of the inappropriateness of her desire. He put a stop to her feeble attempts of escape by pressing her deeper into the mattress.

Spike parted her legs with one knee and felt Dawn's already labored breath catch in her throat. He withdrew his hand from her breast and inserted it under her waistband. On his way deeper he scratched her ass with his nails. Dawn's head lifted off the pillow as she took in a sharp breath. He sighed, knowing that he would never have time to explore her body, to find out where she liked to be scratched or how hard she would like it. She would like it hard, he guessed, judging by her reaction. She would like to wear his marks under her clothes. She would... Not now, he chided himself.

His hand reached its intended destination and he trembled along with her when two of his fingers slid with difficulty inside her.

"Spike!" she squealed. "What the hell..."

"Don't ask what I'm doing, Pet. You've been pretty thoroughly fucked all afternoon, 'm sure you know what I'm doing."

"You and your goddamn smell!" she said through gritted teeth.

"I'm gonna take you for a ride in the big league. See if this solves any of your doubts."

"God, Spike, have you lost it?" she asked, trying once more to get out of the bed.

"God has nothing to do with this," he told her.

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"I hadn't come looking for this," she whispered. 

"I know, Bit," he said.

"Spike... I really missed you. And i have never wanted to use you like this."

Like Buffy... The words remained unsaid, but they both knew.

He wanted to tell her that nothing like this had ever been on his mind, but he had never lied to the Nibblet before, why would he start now. He had had some rather disturbing and definitely wet dreams about doing to her just what he had done. She had been hanging around with him too long, and she was so much like Buffy in so many ways that he had thought about whisking her away from Sunnydale and raising her to love only him.

"How's life treating you lately?" she asked.

Her head was nestled in the crook of his neck. She was radiating warmth, and, again, a measure of anxiety had crept into her scent.

"Are you asking about Faith?"

She shrugged.

"Whatever. I just wanted to know how you'd been."

"Because you missed me," he finished her sentence.

"Um-hm," she nodded.

"I'm fine. Always did like to live on the road."

"The New Watchers' Council is fully functional again. They might want Faith to get back to slaying as a full gig."

Spike thought about a Watcher trying to get Faith to do something she didn't want to do. That was a conversation that needed to be observed from behind bullet proof panels. From some stuff Faith had reluctantly shared, only Wes had been able to rattle her cage, and get her to do what needed to be done even when it went beyond reasonable.

He shook the thoughts away. He never thought about his days at Wolfram and Hart. Not about the tug of Hell. Not about the last battle.

"Why did you dye that pretty hair of yours?" he asked.

Dawn shrugged again. Such a child-like mannerism. For a moment, Spike had the deja-vu sensation: the two of them, falling asleep in his crypt.

"It's a phase, I'm sure," she replied. "Guess I wanted to see if the Mediterranean look suited me."

"Could've used Photoshop," he said.

"Do you hate it?"

He thought about that for a while. He'd been shocked. He'd been reminded of Dru. But no, he did not hate it.

"There's nothing about you I could ever hate," he said.

"God, you're such a flirt," she said.

Spike felt her cheeks grow warmer. He felt himself grow hard again.

"Never lied to you, Bit."

"I lied to you," she said.

"Really? When?"

"Oh, ages ago. Just about little things. About going to Janice's. About boys I liked."

"You were a naughty little girl, weren't you?"

"No. I never was naughty. I guess bad's just not my thing."

'Never been bad enough for you,' he could almost hear the words.

"Don't be so sure about that. You're in my bed the night before your wedding, I'd call that naught. I'd call that down. right. bad."

He punctuated the last words with with shallow bites on her breasts. Dawn gasped and arched her back. He took her hardened nipple in her mouth, licked and sucked on it until he felt Dawn getting wet enough to stain the sheets.

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"If I thought there was any chance for us to make it work, I would call off the wedding," she said once the aftershocks rocking her body subsided. 

He was surprised to hear it at such a moment, but said nothing. There was no chance for them. The way he had loved done all these years, and the way he wanted her tonight did not blend in an all encompassing feeling. His attitude toward her still had something paternal or fraternal in it. He realized that this was probably the reason why fucking her had felt wicked and awesome.

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_To be continued..._


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**: The characters belong to Joss Whedon.

**Timeline**: less than two years post NFA (Angel), about three years post Chosen (BtVS)

Set about seven years before the events of my Wes/Faith story, "Needed".

Background: Spike is the only known survivor of the big battle in NFA. A few months after that battle, Spike meets Faith. Faith was several months pregnant – the child's father, complete mystery for everyone so far. Spike and Faith stick together in a completely non sexual way. They work as treasure hunters and demon fighters, rogue demon fighters :) Faith and Spike are invited at Dawn's wedding, in Cleveland.

**Pairing**: Spike/Dawn

**Rating: M (again, full version on my LJ commnutiy, archive2. **Sorry folks, this chapter is all smutty, and I had to abide by the rules of this site.)

**Beta**: Rachael

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**Chapter 3**

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"_If I thought there was any chance for us to make it work, I would call off the wedding," she said once the aftershocks rocking her body subsided._

_He was surprised to hear it at such a moment, but said nothing. There was no chance for them. The way he had loved her down all the years, and the way he wanted her tonight did not blend in an all encompassing feeling. His attitude toward her still had something paternal or fraternal in it. He realized that this was probably the reason why fucking her had felt wicked and awesome._

She was right. But that didn't make him any less angry. She'd been boinking him all night and then she'd go and marry another bloke as if nothing had happened. His vindictive nature made him want to punish her. For growing up, for being able to get over him so easily, for reminding him that he was not a part of the natural order.

Spike felt an anger so dark it was akin to despondency. He had to make her remember him. Had to leave some physical mark on her, and yet something that no one other than her was ever going to notice. And out of his over one hundred years experience, something occurred to him. In a century of being well and truly evil, he had had experiences that had gone through all shades of dark. He wanted her to remember.

He reached for the baby bag that rested conveniently next to the nightstand. He took put the baby oil, promising himself that Faith was never ever going to fond out about this, and when he felt ready, he guided her hand to him.

"Stroke it," he demanded.

Dawn did what she was told. Hesitantly and awkwardly, at first. He showed her how hard to grip it, how fast to stroke it.

"Now give it a good licking, luv. I know you want it," he said smelling her arousal again.

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"I'm sure that wasn't what you came for, either," he said. 

He needed a smoke. Needed to be out of that house. Needed to be away from her. She would've made such a lovely playmate. But that was not a role she would settle for.

Dawn got dressed fast and silently. He smirked noticing the slight stiffness in her movements. She was going to be a treat to watch walking down the aisle tomorrow.

"I'm sorry I can't be what you think you need," she said before leaving.

He had no reply. He lay on his back again, closed his eyes, and put his arms behind his head. He longed for a cigarette.

The Big Bad was not gone for good. He smiled, and fell asleep.

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Almost the end. Don't get your hopes up for a romantic epilogue. It's just going to be some kind of closure till I finish "Needed" and tie things up for my favorite couples, Wes/Faith and Spike/Dawn. 


	4. Epilogue

**Disclaimer**: The characters belong to Joss Whedon.

**Timeline**: less than two years post NFA (Angel), about three years post Chosen (BtVS)

Set about seven years before the events of my Wes/Faith story, "Needed".

Background: Spike is the only known survivor of the big battle in NFA. A few months after that battle, Spike meets Faith. Faith was several months pregnant – the child's father, complete mystery for everyone so far. Spike and Faith stick together in a completely non sexual way. They work as treasure hunters and demon fighters, rogue demon fighters :) Faith and Spike are invited at Dawn's wedding, in Cleveland.

**Pairing**: Spike/Dawn

**Beta: **Rachael

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**Epilogue**

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The ceremony itself was proceeding without incidents. Spike on the other hand was nervous. Like a long a long-tailed cat in a rocking-chair factory, Pratchett's comparison came to mind. When a clumsy idiot altar boy tripped and accidentally threw some holy water on his jacket the minute he entered the church, he started to worry about keeping quiet during the vows. He cursed silently for a few minutes, as the droplets of water burned their way through the fabric. His worries increased when, a few minutes later he burned his palm resting it carelessly on the pew right about an engraved cross.

Spike looked at the happy couple, trying to put the small inconveniences out of his mind. He was quite surprised actually about the lack of drama. It wasn't just that Dawn was saying her "I do" without hesitation, but in true Summers tradition, the event should've been sprinkled with all sort of mishaps and obstacles that they'd overcome in a nick of time.

With a private shrug, Spike let his mind drift while the priest talked about love, marriage, and a lot of other stuff that had little to do with his life anymore. He sneaked a peak at Faith. She was surreptitiously checking her watch. He wondered if his Slayer was really bored or if she was just trying to mask the unwanted feelings the wedding might have awakened in her soul. He wondered about Alex's father again.

"Gotta change the jacket," he told Faith when they were leaving the church.

She nodded absentmindedly. Something was up with her. Or she was up to something. If it had anything to do with him, she'd tell him.

"I'll come back as soon as possible," he said.

"Did you change your mind about staying at the party?" she asked.

"Neah. We'll get out after a few minutes."

"Good," she said, and there was something in her tone that made him think he was going to find out soon what was on her mind.

He rushed back into the Summers house to grab another jacket. He sensed Buffy before his hand even touched the door to his room. He wondered why she was there. She hadn't shown him any interest, except maybe that brief moment when he had arrived. Earlier, when they were in the church she had seemed happy with whoever that guy on her arm was.

"Congratulations, Slayer. Beautiful ceremony," he said.

Buffy stood in the middle of his room looking at him with an indecipherable expression.

"Anything wrong?" Spike asked after a few moments of uncomfortable silence.

"Whatever else you have done, you had never lied to me before," she said.

Her tone was serious and heavy. What the hell was she talking about?

"Huh?"

"You told me that you and Faith were just friends. But that's not true, is it?" she said, pointing disgusted at the bed.

He didn't hear pain in her tone. Not even jealousy.

He took in the sight as it must have appeared to her: torn pillow case, crumpled sheets, stained with baby oil and body fluids. She couldn't smell Dawn all over the bed as he did. But what she could see were the few long, dark hairs on the pillow. Buffy's mind interpreted them as belonging to Faith, of course. The length was the same, and there was only a shade of difference between Dawn's newly black hair and Faith's dark brown.

Spike knew he could not tell her the truth. She would not believe him even if he did tell her, and it would certainly come to blows. And if she did believe him, it might very well come to staking. He told himself that this was the reason, and not protecting the Nibblet.

"Nothing to say?" Buffy asked.

He shook his head.

"Don't consider that the invitation to stay here extends beyond the wedding."

Spike watched her leave with a heavy heart. Not only he had just lost the last shreds of respect and affection she still had for him, but he had also aggravated the already tenuous relationship between Faith and Buffy. He didn't even want to think what he had done last night to his beautiful friendship with Dawn.

He packed his bags, went into Faith's room and was relieved to find that hers were already packed. He took all of them to the car before he went to the party.

Faith was waiting for him at their table. She looked ready to leave. He circled behind her and leaned to whisper in her ear.

"One dance with the bride, and then we're off," he promised.

Faith's lips tightened into a line and she glanced down at her watch again. Spike hurried away before she had the chance to enforce his growing need to leave the reception.

He spotted Dawn easily. She looked amazingly beautiful in her wedding dress. Even more than she had in church. He wished she'd look this way forever. The sudden temptation to turn her shocked him. He couldn't do that to her. Not to his precious little girl. He saw her wincing ever so slightly when she sat down, and the previous night came back to him. He sidled to her chair like a tiger on the prowl.

"May I have this dance?"

He could see her wanting to say no. But that wouldn't be polite. That would raise suspicions. That would make it impossible for her to pretend that he was just good ol' Spike and the night before had never happened.

They danced without talking. When the song was ending, he told her.

"Your sister thinks I was with Faith last night. I didn't deny it."

She looked up at him, meeting his eyes for the first time that day. He didn't see hate or gratitude in her eyes. He, who had always been able to understand women, could not guess what she was feeling. The dance ended, and he let go of her.

"I love you, Nibblet," he whispered, as she walked away.

Dawn's almost imperceptible flinch was the only sign that she had heard him.

Spike went back to Faith, who stood up as soon as she saw him approaching.

"Let's go," he said.

When they got to the car, Faith did not comment seeing that the bags were already inside. It was also unusual that they did not have the customary argument about who would drive. He had pulled out of the parking lot pondering how much or if he should tell her. Things were going too well between them to start keeping secrets. Besides, sooner or later, she was going to talk to Buffy.

"Let's swing by the New Watchers' Council before we pick up Alex from the babysitter," Faith said, interrupting his thoughts.

"It's Sunday. No one's gonna be there," he replied.

Faith looked at him and smiled.

"Precisely," she said.

Spike felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Life with Faith was never going to be boring.

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_The end_


End file.
